


California's (Were)wolves

by emsmittens



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - No Hale Fire (Teen Wolf), Beta Derek Hale, Derek Hale is a Softie, Full Shift Werewolves, Graduate Student Stiles Stilinski, M/M, Not Beta Read, Obvious Stiles Stilinski, One Shot, Protective Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski Finds Out About Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-27
Updated: 2020-01-27
Packaged: 2021-02-25 07:47:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22428724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emsmittens/pseuds/emsmittens
Summary: After reading the rumors of the wolves around Beacon Hills, Stiles Stilinski, a plucky graduate student of UC Berkeley’s Wildlife Biology program, made it his mission to find them. He found 'wolves, but not the ones he was expecting.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 5
Kudos: 342





	California's (Were)wolves

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoy it!

The wilderness preserve that surrounded Beacon Hills, aptly named Beacon Hills Preserve, contained miles and miles of forest, clearings, and freshwater. Ever since its creation, a number of mayors wanted to survey the area, or at least have the State of California send permanent staff to maintain the land. Over the years and after many failed attempts, people moved on to other important issues that were plaguing the town. Besides for a handful of hikers and adventurous teenagers, the place was rarely visited.

For the people that lived on the edge of the preserve, wolf howls were not uncommon. Even the well-known fact that wolves are no longer in California did not stop the eerie howls around the full moon. Some of the braver citizens tried, and failed, to locate the wild canines that lurked nearby their children and pets. Due to nobody every finding a wolf, the citizens collectively blamed the local feral dogs. And soon, the legend of the Beacon Hills wolves faded into fairy-tales.

Generations later, a plucky graduate student of UC Berkeley’s Wildlife Biology program dug up his great-grandmother’s diary. In it, she briefly mentions the local gossip about the unseen wolves that howled outside her window as a small child in Beacon Hills. After obtaining his adviser's permission, one Stiles Stilinski made the quick drive to Beacon Hills in his old, blue Jeep and rented an apartment for the summer, determined to be the first biologist to announce the return of wolves to California. 

***

Stiles adjusted his bright red hiking backpack as he side-stepped yet another knot of trunks that were spread out in the middle of the hiking trail. It was one of the most un-maintained trails he has ever hiked, but the thought excited him. At first, he was nervous about finding wolves close to the human population of town, but during this first adventure, he realized that this preserve was truly a wilderness. 

Wiping off a bead of sweat that was threatening to drop down his tank top, he focused on the muddy edges of the trail, looking for animal tracks. So far, he found mainly rabbits and coyotes, and scribbled about them in his field notebook. 

A few hours later, he made his way to his summer apartment after finding no new tracks, especially not wolf tracks. Stiles didn’t feel discouraged, he realized as he went up the old, dingy stairs of his apartment building. Summer was just beginning. 

***

The next day, three hard knocks on his front door jerked Stiles awake hours before his alarm. Groaning out loud, he shoved off his covers on the futon and sleepily padded across the small living room to the door. He opened it without looking through the peephole, thinking that it was far too early for any criminals to come knocking. 

At his door was a man. A handsome man with nice dark stubble and stunning pale green eyes. He even had on a leather jacket on top of a tight fitting white t-shirt. And a frown, a very grumpy frown. Trying not to think about how attractive the stranger was, Stiles blinked the sleep from his eyes as he waited for the other man to stop staring at him and tell him what he’s doing on Stiles doorstep at ass-o’clock in the morning.

Without speaking to him, the hot stranger shoved something into Stiles hands. He looked down, it was his handy-dandy field notebook that he brought everywhere, it had everything from maps of the town to his meandering thoughts. He must have dropped it somewhere in the forest yesterday.

“Thanks, dude,” Stiles said, voice still rough from sleep. “I would have been fucked without this.”

The stranger frowned more, causing his sharp jaw to flinch. “Don’t call me dude. My name is Derek.”

Realizing that Derek somehow knew where to find him, Stiles became suspicious and placed his free hand on his still opened door. “How did you know where to find me, Derek?”

Derek raised a bushy eyebrow and pointed towards the address that was scribbled with black sharpie, along with his name and email, at the top of the yellow book. Before Stiles could apologize, Derek continued,“You know, there are no wolves in Beacon Hills.”

Stiles grinned, apparently Derek has read some of his notes. “I’m here to prove that.”

“Good luck with that,” Derek said as he broke his frown to give Stiles a tight smile before leaving.

Jeez, even beautiful people can be rude, Stiles thought as he closed his door. He even locked it for good measure. Flipping through the book, he made his way to his makeshift desk of a folding chair and an old, smelly beer pong table. It appears that everything was still in its right place and the book itself survived the night. Determined to get some research in before the sun rose, he booted up his laptop and cracked his long pale fingers. 

***

The next time Stiles saw Derek was in a nearby coffee shop a few days later. Well, Stiles actually literally ran into the other man, almost spilling both of their drinks in the process. Thankfully, the coffee shop just opened for the day, so the amount of people that saw this interaction was small.

While Stiles was apologizing profusely, Derek cut him off by asking, “Are you usually this clumsy?”

Stiles looked up from where he was trying to put his lid back on his large iced cold brew, offended by the question. “Of course not!” He’s only tripped ten times while hiking in the forest for the past three days, thank you very much. Derek raised an eyebrow as if he somehow knew that Stiles was lying to him before shrugging, like he couldn’t care less and left the establishment. 

After finally getting his lid back on his drink, Stiles vowed to never speak to Derek for the rest of the summer. It doesn’t matter that Stiles thought the man was hotter than a thousand burning suns, he was clearly a sour-puss. 

***

Later that day, long after he finished his mandatory caffeine intake, Stiles stopped exploring a new trail, in favor of sitting on a huge log right next to a softly trickling stream. He pulled out his hand-packed lunch from his bag. The sun was barely out today and the forest has been swaying with the wind all morning. Stiles wished he packed soup for lunch, instead of the cold ham sandwich he was currently eating.

Stiles was so into his thoughts about wolves, that he didn’t notice a large black dog appear across the stream. When he finally noticed it, he gasped and almost fell backwards off of the log. Clutching a bundle of his shirt that was around his chest, he tried to get his breathing under control. The dog was so large that Stiles thought it was a wolf for a split second.

The canine in question padded across the pebble bottomed stream with his nose up in Stiles’ direction, appearing curious. It came to a stop a few feet from Stiles and cocked its head.

“Hey, big guy. I just finished by sandwich or I would have offered you some.” Stiles said as he glanced over the dog, thinking to himself. It was big enough to be part-wolf, but seemed domestic enough, with its wagging tail. There’s no tag around its huge fluffy neck and it appeared to be too well fed to be lost or homeless, so Stiles didn’t think it was feral either.

If it’s part-wolf, he could get a DNA sample as further evidence that wolves are indeed in California, he thought to himself as he stood up to get closer. The animal wouldn’t let Stiles close enough to pluck a strand of fur for a DNA sample. Instead it started bouncing around Stiles’ legs as if this was part of the game. Rolling his eyes at the antics, Stiles needed to continue with his research, so he started down the trail, thinking that the dog would leave him alone. It didn’t.

***

Stiles has spent a month searching the Beacon Hills Preserve for evidence of wolves. He was starting to get worried that he would never find them. Or worse, they don’t even exist. The only time he didn’t feel like a failure is when he hung out with his only friend, the dog that followed him around in the forest during the day. He had bushy eyebrows and pale green eyes that reminded Stiles of a certain grumpy human, so he starts to refer to the dog as Derek.

Derek the Dog has saved Stiles from multiple injuries while hiking in the overrun forests. Somehow, Derek knew when and how Stiles was going to fall and rushed to his side, offering up his tall form to steady Stiles before he could drastically hurt himself. He was quick too, much faster than any other dog.

Currently, the two were spread out in a clearing, next to a nearby swamp, on a plaid large blanket Stiles brought with him in order to relax and eat lunch. He always brought extra food for his canine friend, who preferred just barely cooked red meat. 

“Can I take you home with me when I live Beacon Hills?” Stiles asked Derek while softly stroking him behind his head.

Derek huffed and appeared to roll his eyes, much like a human would. 

“Yeah, you’re right.”

The peaceful scene was soon broken by a loud growl behind the pair. Stiles whipped his head around, both excited and scared, thinking that it may finally be a wolf. Instead, Stiles saw a creature emerging from the murky water of the nearby swamp. Its eyes were bright green and its body looked like it was all made from green and brown moss. Well, except for the huge claws that were sinking into the dirt. It was swamp monster, also a character in his great-grandmother’s diary that Stiles just chalked up to an overactive imagination. How wrong he was. 

Eyes wide in fear, Stiles turned to his companion, only to see him replaced by another, equally terrifying creature. It was clearly, so very clearly a naked werewolf, a creature of myth and legend. The beast looked vaguely human, with its face contoured. Stiles tried to take in details, but couldn’t. Instead he opted to scoot back towards the nearest tree, praying that he was out of the way of the two supernatural creatures. He wanted to run but his legs were shaking so badly, Stiles doubt that he would get very far.

His heart was beating so hard that he felt it in his throat as he watched the two fight it out. The earth rumbled underneath him and his ears felt like they were going to explode from the constant roaring and growling. Although it seemed like the werewolf was winning, they were both covered in blood and the swamp monster was much, much larger. Stiles hoped his dog-turned-werewolf friend would be the one to win this battle. 

With one final blow, the swamp monster yowled and collapsed into onto the ground, shaking Stiles to his very core The bloody werewolf turned around and walked towards the human. Stiles was certain he was about to die, until the creature slowly transformed into an actual human person. One particular person. Derek.

Stiles’ mind was working a mile a minute. Meeting human Derek. Human Derek seeing that he’s clumsy. Meeting dog Derek. Dog Derek stopping him when he’s clumsy. Meeting werewolf Derek. Werewolf Derek saving him from a horror movie creature. Instead of saying any of his chaotic but rational thoughts to human Derek, Stiles blurted out, “Holy shit, dude. You’re naked.”

Derek’s ears turned slightly pink as he grabbed the nearby discarded picnic blanket and wrapped it around his waist. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

Shakily standing up, Stiles stepped closer to Derek, looking over the toned human. His wounds were closing over and healing. Stiles stared into his familiar, pale green eyes and wondered how he didn’t piece together this puzzle. The Sheriff would be upset with his son being so slow on the uptake.

Finally finding his voice, Stiles said “So, instead of there being wolves in the preserve of Beacon Hills, California, there is one werewolf?”

“Werewolves.”

Stiles passed out, shock and exhaustion finally catching up to him.

***

The warm light of sunset filtered through the small window and shone down onto Stiles, gently coaxing him from his sleep. He blinked a few times, trying to get a grip on reality. Looking around, Stiles realized he didn’t know where he was. The comfortable bed and the off-white wallpaper was something that Stiles himself didn’t own. He was in someone else’s house, with a killer headache. He groaned as he sat up, the hand-woven blue blankets falling around his lap. He ran a hand through his wet shaggy hair. Someone washed him. Hell, he was even still naked. With this realization, memories came flooding back to him. Oh, shit. It was Derek that washed him. Derek, who is a dog. Wait no, he’s a werewolf.

There was a soft knock at the door and it opened soon after, not allowing time for Stiles to answer. Derek smiled awkwardly as he stepped into the room, guarded with what looked like water and medicine. He placed the items on the bedside table next to Stiles before sitting down on the close-by wooden desk chair. “How are you feeling?”

Stiles recognized the pain medicine and swallowed it, followed by deep gulps of water. When did he become so dehydrated? He looked Derek over, trying to figure out the other man, as he answered with a shrug. Once his mouth was empty, he sarcastically added, “As if I just found out that supernatural creatures of the night are in fact real. And that the local hot guy is a werewolf, but is also the dog that has been following me around for the past month.”

“You think I’m hot?” Derek asked, raising his eyebrows in dismay.

“That’s what you’re focusing on?”

Derek looked away from Stiles and seemed to be embarrassed. Stiles took the time to chug the rest of his cold, ice water and to ponder over the situation he found himself in. Placing the glass down, he noticed his yellow field notebook laying there unharmed. A sudden wave of outrage swept over the human.

“There aren’t any wolves in California,” he said softly, grabbing the book and throwing the book down to the ground in disgust. “So much for my graduate project.” Stiles looked up at Derek, anger apparent in his whisky colored eyes. “And you,” he said, voice raising, “You allowed me to believe that you’re a fucking dog. I told you things I have never told a soul. You didn’t think about telling me who you really are, at least once? You probably laughed to yourself as I looked like a fucking dumb-ass while aimlessly searching for non-existent animals. Do you have anything to say for yourself?” Stiles’ cheeks were red with fury now and his words were ending in snarls.

For his part, Derek looked apologetic and even nervous as he was gripping the wooden arms of his chair with his half-shifted claws. “I didn’t know how to bring it up,” he said, voice quiet compared to Stiles’ own. When Stiles snorted in disbelief, he continued, “Werewolves are sworn to secrecy. I shouldn’t have even been in my full form around you… I just didn’t want you to get hurt.”

Stiles’ expression softened at the other man’s words. It makes sense that Derek couldn’t just carelessly tell Stiles that werewolves are real and that he is one. Plus, he did protect Stiles from the swamp monster, among many other times that Stiles was just a danger to himself. 

“Besides,” Derek said with a sly smile, “I never said that there weren't any wolves in California, just that there’s none around Beacon Hills.”

Sitting up straighter with this new-found knowledge, Stiles tried not to jump with joy, knowing that he was still naked under the loosely fitting sheets around his lower half. His mind was catching up, and fast. “Can you help me find them?”

Derek’s smile grew, almost fondly as he nodded to confirm Stiles’ question. “But first you have to meet my pack and my mother, the alpha. Just to make sure you won’t betray the trust I’ve given you.”

“Of course,” Stiles said. Anything to continue his graduate school research. He was so happy he felt like kissing Derek, hard. And so he did, warm covers forgotten on the bed.

***

A year later, Stiles stepped up onto a huge stage, flatting down his graduation robes and trembling with happiness. The speaker announced declared that this was the last student before stumbling over his given Polish name before moving on to his degree name, accomplishment, and GPA. Masters Degree in Wildlife Biology; credited with discovering the lost wolves of California; 4.0 GPA. Stiles knew it by heart. He almost tripped onto his adviser as she hugged him tightly and gave him is diploma. Hearing a roar in the crowd, Stiles waved to it, zeroing in on the loudest part.

Every member of the Hale pack was there, cheering him on along side with his father. Derek, who was now his fiancee, was grinning proudly. Shyly smiling back, he walked off the stage, trying desperately not to trip on his own feet. When he reached the ground again, the Hale pack swarmed him, hugging him and crying. Maybe werewolves aren’t so terrifying after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on my Teen Wolf shipping [Tumblr](https://stilesshipper.tumblr.com/)


End file.
